SOMEONE SHE WANTED TO KISS
by ForeverAmberlie
Summary: Plays off of episode "Kansas", After Emma tells Hook/Killian she would like to take Henry back to New York because she has no reason to stay. But they both know she does... And she can't break his heart.


_Someone she actually wanted to kiss._

That's what she said. Her voice cocky and dry. Pure Emma.

Zalina should have picked someone she wanted to kiss. As if his whole pathetic effort to protect her and Henry from the magic should a kiss actually happen between them…all for naught. Because, huh! She'd never kiss _him._

It hit him in the gut.

He tried to pretend it didn't. He tried to control his features to not give away the truth of his feelings, but he wasn't entirely successful. He saw her shift her glance quickly, but guiltily, away from him, and face the Wicked Witch.

No time for his feelings, he knew. She was trying to save the world again. Save everyone she loved. Again. The Savior did what she needed to do… Like a pirate. He understood that—he understood her.

He hoped that was the truth of it, the only truth of her biting words, because he was damn well in hell over this woman.

She had feelings for him, he was sure of it after the kiss they shared in Neverland. The kiss he teased her into, sure, but not that seriously… But the kiss… That kiss felt like the most serious thing that ever happened to him. She walked away through the forest afterwards, and he had stood there knowing he was a dead man. A fucking dead man.

She owned him, entirely. One kiss.

He had been _so sure_ when he found her in New York that another kiss from him would bring back all her memories. She would look into his eyes, feel his breath on her lips, and his heart beating against her own and –cannon fire! - True loves kiss would break the spell!

Then she kicked him in the balls and slammed the door in his face, and he realized he had spent too much bloody time with David and Snow had it muddled his mind.

But it couldn't just have been in his own mind, because he had kissed many women in his long life. And he had known love before… And even _that_ was not _this. This thing_ he felt between them. This was _more_.

If she would only admit it.

Instead, every contact they'd had since she and Henry had come back to Storybrook had been strained. She was somehow angry with him, he could see, for bringing her back. She was suspicious and hostile, biting and distant with him… Keeping him far from her, even when they might stand only feet apart.

Even when every time he was within arms reach of her, all he wanted to do was pull her close to him and devour her…Smell her…Run his hand through her long hair and his tongue along her neck to feel her pulse race beneath it.

Perhaps there was something, before. Perhaps now it was gone. Maybe she wanted a different life more than she could ever want him… And maybe he would live in angry misery the rest of his life in payment for all his many sins.

…And then he coughed and gasped for air, and opened his eyes and saw her beautiful face so close above him, her eyes tortured and wet.

"What have you done?" He'd asked her.

She just looked at him stunned and relieved to hear him speak, before the fact of what she _had_ done settled in her eyes.

She'd given up her magic to save him.

And it hit him right in the gut.

…Now he sat on the deck of the Jolly Rodger, watching the moonlight play on the water and wishing he had another bottle of Rum. _What kind of pirate ran out of rum_? He shook his head at himself in mild disgust.

Three times that day Emma had gut punched him. First the thing about the kiss, then when she actually gave up her magic to save his life, and then when she stood outside her mother's room while David and Snow rejoiced at their new son back safe in their arms, and told him she had nothing to stay in Storybrook for.

_Nothing to stay for_. PUNCH.

Nothing to stay for?! She had given up her bloody magic to save him! That didn't _mean_ anything? How could it not_ mean_ anything? He was left speechless, for once. This woman was going to drive him mad! And what could he do there in the hospital wing, with everyone around so happy? Because he wanted to grab her and shake her.

So he needed a drink.

He left her with her family, and came back to the ship to drown his feelings and sizable frustration in the bottom of a rum bottle, like any good pirate would…Only to realize that he hadn't refreshed his rum storage in ages. Why? Oh, because trying to be a better man meant being sober most of the time, apparently.

All the bloody good it did him. She had _nothing to stay for._

He ran his hand through his hair and dragged it down his face.

He really needed some more rum… Or to fall into a sleeping curse. That might help.

_If he didn't know he'd dream only of Emma._

….

Emma felt bad about the day, even with the happy ending.

Seeing the baby—her brother—back in her parents arms was a blessing and a miracle. She was grateful, _so_ grateful…Especially since she hadn't been the one to save him, afterall. At least he was saved, because Lord knew she had blown her chance to be the hero when her lips touched Killian's.

And she'd known it when she did it.

So she _was_ happy the baby was safe, even happy Regina got to save the day. Henry was so proud of her, it did warm Emma's heart. After everything, his faith and love had not been wrong. It was a good thing…she told herself.

But she watched her family, a faint but honest smile on her face, and she couldn't help the feeling in her chest… Did they ever have the chance to hold her like that? If they did, she could never remember… The happy family picture just reminded her that she'd been without them all her shitty life.

She didn't want to be jealous. But she kinda was. Regina had held Henry as a baby, not her. _But you gave him up_, she reminded herself. _You gave him away._

Nothing had ever just been hers in her whole damn life. Nothing, and no one. That's just the way it was.

_Jesus, way to have a pity party, _she internally scolded.

_You could have someone._

Killian's wounded eyes flashed before her.

_You do have someone. Someone who just wants you._

She told herself to shut the fuck up. That was enough of that crap. As soon as she could, when the time was right she was going to take Henry back to their life in New York. Their nice, normal life.

_Where you were sleeping with a flying monkey._

Sometimes she really wanted to smack her inner voice.

She shook her head and looked at the now quiet hospital hallway. She needed to get out of here, and Henry had gone home with Regina and Robin. _Because even a woman without a freaking heart managed to get someone to fall in love with her. _

Emma quickly banished the thought. Regina should have someone who loved her. It might chill out the bitch factor a tad, and that would be good for everyone. And she did save her baby brother…So. _Good on you, Regina._

The hospital door slid open before her, and cool air hit her face. It brought her back to herself, and cleared her ugly thoughts. Good. A walk home would do her well, because if she didn't knock it off she'd turn as green as the Wicked Witch, herself. What was wrong with her?

But she sorta knew.

She'd hurt Killian. Done nothing but hurt him, truth be told, since returning. And she didn't know why…except she was_ her_. And he was_ him_. And it was all just… Just. Bigger than her. More intense and out of control than she ever wanted or needed in her life.

She was thinking all of this, about the things she'd said, about the look on his face he tried to hide today when she inferred she'd never want to kiss him. _Kiss him again_…and about how her heart had almost shriveled and actually died when she thought he might be dead.

There had been no choice in that moment.

He wasn't breathing. He was dying, or dead, or what looked to her like her nightmare, and she'd just…done it. What else could she do? Letting him die was out of the question. And when he'd gasped back to her…

She looked up at the Jolly Rodger.

_So here you are._

"So here I am."

_What else could you do?_

Inside his cabin Killian swallowed the last of the rum he had blessedly found stuffed in his map cabinet. It hadn't been nearly enough, less than half the bottle. Not enough to drown his pain, but maybe enough to help him fall asleep. Even if not good old sleeping curse sleep, a few hours of unconsciousness could only help…Or, rather, sweet dreams of Emma, ones he enjoyed rather much.

He threw off his jacket and kicked off his boots, and laid back on his bed covering his face with both arms in misery. He really wished he'd found more sodding rum.

A soft knock came on his door.

"Oh Holy Hell, What?" he yelled. If there was one more cataclysm happening, he swore he would sit it out entirely. Its not like he helped much today, after all.

The doorknob turned and it opened slowly. Emma stepped inside and closed it behind her, leaning into it. She didn't speak.

At first he just lifted his head and stared at her shadowy form against the door…Maybe he'd had more rum than he thought. Or maybe he was already sleeping and this was a dream.

"Hi." She finally said.

He still said nothing, but he sat up. If this had been one of his dreams she'd be naked by now, so… no dream. A full minute passed. He looked at her looking at him until he couldn't take it anymore, and flopped back down on his back, and closed his eyes.

"What do you want?" He asked. He suddenly didn't have anymore energy in him. After all, he'd about died today. And he'd had the shit kicked out of him… It felt like.

"I… just…" She began.

"You just? What? Thought you'd come and tell me more about how you don't want to be here? _Nothing to stay for, _and all of that? Save it, Swan. I heard you."

"No."

"No?"

"That wasn't it. It's…not why I'm here."

He pushed up on his elbows and aimed his blue eyes at her. Even in the dimness she could marvel at their color. And they were sad. Not cocky and playful, like most of the time. Not angry, like sometimes. Sad. Mournful, in fact.

She caught her breath.

"Emma. I'm not in the mood to play games."

"I can see that." She stepped away from the door and moved to stand closer to the bed and the light. "I'm sorry."

At first he didn't say anything. Just kept searching her face with his sad, sad eyes. Then, "You're sorry? You saved my life today. You don't need to say sorry for that…Unless…That's what you're sorry for."

"No! Killian." She kicked at his foot. "No."

A bit of relief replaced some of the sad. He focused on the floor by their feet.

"Then?"

"I'm sorry…I've been so…mad."

They were quiet then for a long moment. Both just letting her words swim in the still air. He sat up and looked at her, finally. Searching her face, his brows drawn together in question.

"Why did you do it? Why did you save me?"

"Killian…"

"Why?" He stood now, so close to her.

"Killian!" She couldn't think with him in her space like this. She never could, and so always tried to keep control of the situation when he did this. And he seemed to be fond of being her space, knocking her of balance. She went to step back only to have him step with her.

"Just say it, Emma. Tell me." His words weren't seductive, as they could have been. They were full of real need. Needing to know.

He grabbed her wrist in his hand, pulling her nearer. He suddenly wasn't so tired. He was suddenly filled with the need to hear her tell him. He needed to hear her tell him, so he would _know_ he wasn't crazy. So he would know he wasn't the only one.

"No…I…You know." His eyes flashed at her.

"Know what? Say it." His voice—_ugh, his damn voice_.

Color filled her cheeks, and her heart raced. _Say it._

"What was I supposed to do?" she finally pleaded. Her green eyes were almost confused, searching for the answer in his own gaze.

"Let me die. Save your magic. Save your family."

Her eyes fell to his hand on her wrist. She put her other hand on top of his.

"I couldn't do that." He cocked a brow at her.

"You left me to die before. You left me up that bloody beanstalk." He said, trying to sound hard.

"It's different now." _You might as well just give this shit up, Emma._ Her hand on his hand almost felt like it was buzzing from the simple touch.

"Oh. How is that, love? How is it different? You're just going to leave me and go back to your _wonderful_ life in New York, anyway! And that will…" He left off. Spent again. She looked up into his eyes…sad again…like a lonesome sea.

"And that will feel like death." He finished flatly.

_There it is, then._

His words felt like a blow to her gut, now.

He couldn't mean that. No body ever had ever…Not Neal, not anybody…No body could think she mattered that much. They never had.

"Killian—"

But his mouth was on hers then. Gasping and hungry. He held her wrist still, between them and his hooked arm wrapped around her back crushing her closer. As close as he could get her, desperate to kiss her, touch her, before she could run away from him.

But she kissed him back, just like she had in Neverland. Just like the kiss that ruined him, she kissed him again. Her hands were in his hair and on his face and around his neck. She made a moaning sound as if lost to the cause. There was no more fight in her.

_What else can you do?_

He swung her around and they crashed down onto his bed. He left her mouth to taste her neck, her collarbone, her ear…he wanted to taste every inch of her. Her hands pressed him to her, and then slid down his back and lifted his shirt to run her hand up his bare back underneath, across hot, smooth skin.

She was going to let this happen. This moment needed to happen like she needed to breath. She needed _him_ like she needed to breath…

"Emma!" He pushed her shirt up over her bra and his hand cupped and squeezed her breast as he sucked her earlobe…_Oh God how long had he wanted to touch her_… He brought his lips to the dip between her collarbones and licked and kissed her perfect flesh there. Flesh he'd eyes so many times, just wanting to duck down and lick it…

She was lifting his shirt over his head, and he ducked out of it, before leaning down to her breast, pulling her flimsy bra down to free her nipple for his mouth. She arched her back and reached around and unlatched the damn thing, and pulled it—and her shirt- off over her head.

He pushed back and gazed at her. His eyes weren't sad anymore. They were full of…awe.

"Bloody Hell. You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, in any land. " He said solemnly.

He leaned on his hook arm, and glided his other hand softly, so softly over her skin, raising goosebumps, tracing the fullness of her with his fingertips. His eyes drank her in. She'd never had anyone look at her like that… It would have made her embarrassed if it didn't stun her.

His feelings for her stunned her.

She reached up and stroked his face, pulling his gaze to hers, and they both became still. Looking.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, Killian." She finally whispered. She couldn't trust her voice. She was surprised to feel her eyes filling, which was so unlike her.

He leaned down and gently kissed her lips, than even more gently on each eyelid, before he put his mouth next to her ear and whispered, "Hush, love. "

But she shook her head, and turned and kissed him again, the tears now falling freely, "No, no…I'm a fucking mess, and I am sorry."

"Emma," he pressed his forehead to hers, and she let his hand wipe her cheeks, before he lightly laid a finger on her lips. "It's all ok now. I have you."

He smiled sweetly at the truth of it. "I don't cry." She huffed, but without much to it. _You are crying. Like a little bitch._ Her inner voice stated mater-of-factly.

"Oh, I see." He nodded. But his lips twitched a little, and his eyes smiled now. "Are you allergic to something, then?"

She cleared her voice and smiled back, "I might be allergic to pirates."

"Hmmm…" he answered, nodding. "That would explain a lot, wouldn't it?"

He glided his hand down her bare skin over her hip to her jeans, and up again, massaging her breast when he found it. Enjoying the weight of it in his hand. His lips soon followed, and he sucked her nipple, like it was some glorious treat. He moaned in pleasure, and she sucked air.

"But I don't think so." He murmured against her skin.

Emma couldn't take anymore. She reached down to his pants and started working at unlacing them. His face lifted, brows arched and he looked up at her with his tongue still licking her tit. He pulled out of her reach, licking his way down her belly, never breaking his gaze.

_Oh my GOD, he's like watching living porn. No one should be that sexy in real life! _

Her center throbbed under her jeans. Throbbed! She kicked off her shoes and heard then drop on the floor. He used his hand and his hook to unbutton her jeans, and slide them down her hips. His hand was warm against her flesh, and his hook was cool and hard. He stood then, pulling the jeans all the way off to drop on the floor with her shoes. Then he was looking down at her laying back on his bed like a damn goddess.

He shook his head in amazement. She was golden and pale, and soft and full. All curves and Paradise. He grinned down at her, and she didn't feel at all weepy anymore. She felt…hot. _And bothered._

Her own eyes raked over his body, which was _just fucking _perfect. It really was _ridiculous_. He was tall, and lithe, his long muscles like cords under his skin, across his belly and down his long arms to strong hands. Her eyes flowed the line of soft dark hair on his abdomen to where it disappeared into his leather pants…where her gaze lingered on his obvious hard-on.

He smirked. Slowly he untied the laces the rest of the way and slid the leather off over his hipbones releasing himself for her view. The sight made her green eyes widen.

"Well." She said, with a smirk of her own. _No wonder he was so cocky._

"Oh, aye. Well indeed."

She giggled and then yelped when his hook caught her panties and ripped the cotton.

"These need to come off. Now." He said, in a growl, leaning over her. She lifted up and slipped out of the now ruined underwear. His eyes traveled up and down her naked body…and then met hers. His one eyebrow raised, and she saw a glimmer in his eyes she realized she had been missing for too long.

_Fuck, he was so sexy._

"What was that, darling?" He asked

"Did I say that out loud?" She laughed.

He pushed her up the bed and settled himself on top of her, his dick hot, huge, pressed against her thigh. She wasn't laughing anymore. His mouth caught hers, softly, but firmly. His tongue tasted hers. He sucked her bottom lip, gently and pressed himself against her flesh in time with his sucks.

_Oh fuck._ She thought. And this time she agreed with her inner voice completely.

His hand reached down and touched her folds, and his eyes glazed a little to feel how wet she was. His breath came a little harder and faster, and he rubbed his cock into her, just a little. Just the head…teasing her sensitive rim. She moaned and arched up to him, locking eyes with his and in one smooth, slow push he was in her. All the way inside her. She folded over him and gripped him, and let out a sigh against his mouth.

He lowered his head to hers, closing his eyes, regaining the control he almost lost when he finally—_finally_—came to be where he had so longed to be.

She was also still, just feeling the feel of him inside her. Filling her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and he slid even deeper. They both gasped, mingling breath.

"My _God_, Emma…" He breathed. No woman, no woman _ever_ felt like this. He had crossed worlds for this. This woman belonged to him now, and he would make her know it, too.

He would not live with out her.

Now he moved his hips like the rolling ocean, steady and slow, and she road a wave of sensation she had never felt. He fit inside her like he was made for her. She adjusted to his size and shape with each roll of their hips. He moaned her name deep in his chest, pumping her with long strokes. In…and almost all the way out. Teasing that place inside her with the rhythm of it. Already she felt the crash building.

"I'm never letting you go, Emma. You're mine." He hissed against her neck, darting his tongue out to catch a drip of sweat. "And I'm yours."

"Ok." She panted, her eyes about rolling into her skull, "Ok ok ok…" _It really wasn't fair of him. But fuck it._

"I am going to make love to you every day of our life…Just like this." He told her ear, in a raspy promising whisper.

"Ok…yes." _Good God, what he could do. _

He adjusted his weight and pressed his pelvic bone into her throbbing clit, moving circles with each steady thrust. Emma bucked against him. _Oh sweet lord. YES…_

She couldn't believe she was reaching the top so fast, but she was. But then her inner voice reminded her their every word and glance had been foreplay… This moment had been building for months now, hadn't it?

He lifted himself up on his arms above her to watch her come. Her face flushed, her eyes closed, her lips open and panting. _This. This is what he wanted all the time he'd known her. He wanted to make her lose herself in him…_He watched as she fell over the edge, lost. She squeezed him in waves, calling his name, and he could hardly hold himself back anymore. Finally at the end of her ride, he let himself shove into her the way he needed-hard and fast, over and over.

_Who is lost now?_ He thought as he jerked and stilled and stiffened, spilling over inside her. Trembling. She made him tremble…

He lay like that atop her, still inside her. Their sweaty bodies slick against one another, their breathing returning to normal. Emma stroking his wet hair at the nap of his neck, his fingers tangled in hers. Minutes passed, and he couldn't make himself push out of her.

"So…" he finally voiced, gruffly, and she could feel a smirk on his lips against her wet skin, "was there something you wanted, then?"

"No. No, not really." She played along.

Then Killian rolled off of her, but quickly pulled her into his side, his arm holding her tight. He reached over and turned down the gas lamp by the bed, leaving them in darkness.

"What are you doing? I really need to get home." She said, sleepily. "I never spend the night."

His hook glided coolly up and down her arm, and he pressed his lips against her temple.

"Oh, you do now, Swan. I told you. I'm not letting you go."

Emma snuggled down into the crook of him, and smiled as she fell asleep.

_I do now._


End file.
